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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863399">Fancy Meeting You Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05'>Bedalk05</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Free Me [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, First Meetings, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Secret Identity, Spies &amp; Secret Agents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:42:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt's mission is going smoothly. Until he reaches the hotel room of his mark to find an unexpected guest in the bed.</p><p> </p><p>  <i> “So it’s real,” Geralt declares in wonderment. "The underground elvish resistance.” </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Free Me [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>229</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fancy Meeting You Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt is good at his job. Break into facilities, shoot bad guys, save hostages, blah blah blah. Sure, things have gotten a bit more complicated since a mission went FUBAR and he earned the moniker “Butcher.” But the isolation and loathing he faces with his colleagues is balanced out by the terror his enemies experience when up against him. So everything's fine. Yeah. No complaints. </p><p>Missions like this one are simple. Blend in at the ball, break into the Drowner’s hotel room, steal the intel. And what kind of bad guy name is Drowner anyway? We get it, you like to drown your victims; be more creative. Everything had gone smoothly so far. No one recognizes him at the ball and he’s able to sneak past the guards up to the hotel room. Of course, that’s when everything blows to shit. </p><p>“Well hello there sexy,” a voice drawls from within the room. A voice that should not be in said room given the intel Geralt had been painstakingly collecting for weeks. </p><p>Freezing in the doorway, Geralt quickly recovers and closes the door behind him. Sprawled on the bed like a Victorian prostitute is a man who crawled straight out of Geralt’s wet dreams. Sex tussled hair, striking blue eyes that glow like orbs, and a body completely and shamelessly on display. </p><p>Stepping further in the room Geralt plasters on a roguish grin. “Seems like there’s been a bit of a mix-up with who is supposed to be giving Fredrick company tonight,” Geralt murmurs. And seriously, Fredrick? When Geralt realized that this guy’s name is Fredrick he understood a bit more why he took up his own villain name but seriously, this guy just has the worst names all around. </p><p>The pout that crosses the stranger’s face highlights his plush, kissable lips. “Who says it’s a mix-up? The more the merrier I say.” Geralt represses a shudder that threatens to run down his spine as he is pierced with that smoldering gaze. Crawling across the bed like a predator cornering its prey the man cocks his head. “Who do I have the pleasure of sleeping with?” he asks cheekily with a flutter of his lashes. </p><p>Making up his mind, Geralt closes the distance between them. “Call my Greg,” he rumbles, before claiming those tempting lips. Muffling a moan with a thrust of his tongue, Geralt finds himself lost in sensations. Heated lips the taste of cherries consumes him as surprisingly calloused hands untuck his tux to run up and down his torso. </p><p>Humming, the man breaks apart from the kiss. “Oh I’m going to have fun with this body,” he says with a grin. “Now when you want to scream my name, call my Jaskier,” he adds with a wink. </p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p>Determining that Jaskier is asleep after some of the most mindblowing sex Geralt has experienced, he takes some time to catch his breath and drink in the picture beside him. Sweat-soaked and sleeping, Jaskier’s visage pulls Geralt in and before he knows what he’s doing, he has placed a gentle kiss on his companion’s forehead. </p><p>Right. Back to work. Shaking his head clear Geralt climbs soundlessly out of the plush bed and dresses again. He’s grateful Jaskier wasn’t inclined to strip Geralt; it would have been slightly awkward explaining away all of his hidden knives. Double checking that all of his knives are secure, Geralt begins rifling through the Drowner’s drawers and belongings, checking for hidden compartments and pockets. </p><p>After 10 minutes of fruitless searching, panic begins to set in. The Drowner is due back in 15 minutes and this is Geralt’s only window of opportunity to get this info. He shudders to think about what’s in store for him if he fails this mission. He's failed too many times before. </p><p>Combing through the belongings for the 3rd time, Geralt jumps as he hears an alert voice behind him. “Can I help you find something?” Jaskier inquires. Whirling around, Geralt’s jaw drops as he sees Jaskier lounging in bed as he had when Geralt entered, but now lazily dangling a flashdrive. </p><p>Slowly placing the bag he is currently holding down, Geralt pulls out one of his hidden knives from his left sleeve. “Who are you?” he demands steadily. Lifting an unimpressed brow Jaskier retorts, “I could ask you the same thing.” </p><p>Mind racing and realizing they are at a standoff with time running out, Geralt grits out, “MI6. Your turn.” Taking a step forward and flexing his fingers around the knife, Geralt waits as Jaskier smirks and rakes his gaze along Geralt’s body. </p><p>“Ah, I should’ve assumed as much,” he chirps. Stretching languidly Jaskier remarks, “I’m part of an organization you won’t know the name of but who is very interested in what is on this drive.” </p><p> Growling, Geralt takes a menacing step forward, disgruntled when Jaskier simply gazes at him, unimpressed. “By order of the queen I demand you hand that over,” he rumbles. </p><p>Eyes widening in false shock Jaskier exclaims, “Oh the queen! Why didn’t you say so!” Tapping his finger to his lip he hums, “This wouldn’t be the same Queen Calanthe that ordered the genocide of an entire race and who forces the legendary Witchers to work under her, would it?” Jaskier’s casual tone clashes with the rage simmering behind those sky blue eyes, fixing Geralt in place. How does he know that information? It was more than top secret; it wasn’t supposed to exist. </p><p>Geralt doesn’t know how to react. The part that has been beaten by his handlers more than he can count insists he becomes enraged and defensive of the queen to protect himself. But that small rebellious piece of him he thought was long gone keeps him silent. At his silence Jaskier’s gaze sharpens and his eyes narrow as they assess the spy anew. </p><p>“Greg…” Jaskier says with a thoughtful frown. “Long silver hair, grumpy face, works for MI6…” Suddenly a mischievous grin bursts across his face and he leans forward eagerly. “You’re a Witcher. Geralt of Rivia. The one they call Butcher.” </p><p>Geralt can’t react fast enough to hide his flinch at his moniker on the lips of the man before him. Humming, Jaskier boldly climbs off the bed and saunters right into Geralt’s space. Even as Geralt places the knife against his neck, Jaskier continues to look placidly at the spy. </p><p> “You’re not a killer,” he murmurs softly, soft eyes piercing through Geralt’s armor. </p><p>Scoffing Geralt retorts gruffly, “You know what they call me.” </p><p>Reaching a gentle hand up, Jaskier traces Geralt’s face, from the frown lines on his forehead to his pinched lips. “And I know there is certainly more to the story,” he responds simply. </p><p>Geralt is reeling in the face of this fearless and mysterious man and is about to demand more answers when his amplified hearing picks up the elevator pinging. Out of time. “Fuck!” He swears. Digging his knife into Jaskier’s neck so a trickle of blood appears he snarls, “The Drowner will be here in a moment. I’m escaping and you’re coming with me.” </p><p>Fluttering his eyes Jaskier croons, “Are you helping rescue me Geralt? How romantic!” With a roll of his eyes Geralt busts the window open and leans out. It’s a long way down but he’s faced worse odds. Throwing Jaskier on his back and ignoring his yelp Geralt climbs out the window and begins the precarious climb down. </p><p>
  <b> *** </b>
</p><p> Geralt stands, glowering at the man resting languidly upon a bed in the motel room they are hiding away in. Currently dressed in oversized clothes that Geralt spotted at a thrift shop, Jaskier is making tattered trousers and a ragged shirt look like a royal gown. When they arrived Geralt gruffly tended to the scratch upon Jaskier’s neck. It was the least he could do since the man hadn’t tried to run. With that done, it was time for some answers. </p><p>“Now who are you? And I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”</p><p>With a bone weary sigh and an apprehensive look at Geralt, Jaskier blinks. Where before sat an ordinary looking human now rested a man with pointed ears, glimmering skin, and shining dark hair. </p><p>“You’re an elf,” Geralt breaths, raking his gaze across the other man's body. </p><p>Huffing out a laugh Jaskier crosses his arms, for the first time in their short acquaintance looking uncomfortable. “Great observation skills Witcher,” he remarks dryly. </p><p>“So it’s real,” Geralt declares in wonderment. "The underground elvish resistance.” </p><p> Geralt’s heart clenches as he stares into pleading blue eyes now blown wide with fear. “Please Geralt, you can’t breathe a word of this,” Jaskier begs. Taking a breath and standing to his full height he says more steadily, “I don’t want to kill you but I will to protect my people.” </p><p>The two outcasts stand face to face in silence for a long moment as Geralt runs through all he has learned. It’s true that he never wanted to work for the government. But as the world became more modernized the roles of Witchers had to transform. Fear of the “other” led to restrictive laws that stripped non-humans of most of their rights and freedoms. In order to have any semblance of life and liberty, working for the government was his only option.</p><p> But Geralt is so tired of it all. He’s tired of the manipulation, he’s tired of the scapegoating that led to his moniker in the first place, he’s tired of working for a government that has done nothing for him. </p><p>Taking in the elf before him Geralt realizes that he is faced with an opportunity he may never get again. “Are non-elves part of the resistance?” Geralt inquires. </p><p>Jaskier’s eyes widen at the insinuation and takes a step forward, biting his lip nervously. “Very few are accepted because we don’t know who we can trust,” he admits. </p><p>Taking a fortifying breath Geralt takes the leap. “I want freedom for my people and all other non-humans,” he states firmly. “I want to join your side.” </p><p>Eyes scrutinize Geralt, seeking any hint of disingenuity. Finally, a tentative smile bright like the sun rising crosses Jaskier’s face. “Oh, this could be fun,” he smiles. </p><p>Taking the first unburdened breath he has experienced in ages, Geralt nods. He doesn’t know why but something about the creature before him draws Geralt to him and gives him the first hint of hope he’s had since becoming entrapped by the government. He needed to take this chance. There was no turning back now. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests for where you would like me to take the plot next, please share!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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